


An Intoxicating Taste

by Maengune



Category: Touhou Project
Genre: F/F, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 22:01:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21043466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maengune/pseuds/Maengune
Summary: She catches you, and you feel your breath taken in an instant.





	An Intoxicating Taste

**Author's Note:**

> Roughly based on a short doujin by Bon called Untitled. 
> 
> This is my first attempt writing a POV Second Person and it was really fun (and challenging) to do! Again, this pairing will be the death of me and I will no longer deny it.

You are never one to lose control during your occasional drinking parties.

Until now.

You think perhaps that it has been quite some time since a major incident happened in Gensokyo - which is a common occurrence, much to your chagrin - so everyone you fondly know considered to just gather in the Hakurei shrine, bringing all sorts of things to share to celebrate the undisturbed peace. Your visitors can only be described as a rambunctious sort, full of stories, banters and wit. A life of neverending adventures. It will be a long night as always, but you secretly like the uncanny togetherness of humans and youkai in one area, despite your seemingly uninterested demeanor to entertain both crowds. The rowdy mood was never to your liking, but you do relish the fine drinks they share with you from time to time.

Marisa, everyone's infamous black and white magician, and your secretly, adorable girlfriend, greatly loves the surprise gatherings. Although she delights at any spark of festivities, she makes her way to help you with the demand for socializing. Her presence grounds you during insufferable moments or when it becomes too much for you to control.

Just like your drinking habits, for example.

You dwell on your girlfriend's unbelievable charm in your head and time passes in silence. The fairies are yet to chirp their seasonal chorus but everyone's joyful sing-song has filled the place with enough noise to wake even the ghost of the past. They yell. They cheer. The sound roars through and for once, you listen. You don't even remember the person who approached you to give your sake cup a refill, and the revelry sweeps you off like a landslide.

You sip more of that sake that you are holding with your free hand. The sharp taste gives you a pleasant jolt. You get another refill. The aroma covers your sense of smell and it flushes your whole body red.

You are still holding the cup, filled to the brim once more and, in the oddest occurrence, has begun to resemble a temptress calling for you with such a bewitching song.

If you can visualize it clearer, you see yourself enthralled, standing near the edge of a cliff and simply a step away from that one grand push. The melody echoes below as sweet as the liquor that had trickled your lips since earlier.

You try to mentally order your hand to stop, to not heed that call, as daring as it is to finish that dainty bottle you notice in the corner.

But, of course, you can never deny your penchant for theatrics.

It didn't take a while for that push to come, and the said bottle drops to the floor with a dull clang. You discern that the cold ground had claimed you far longer than you had hoped and the last thing you remember was your companions' warped voices and the lulled seclusion inside your head. They were still wrapped in their world to notice your desperate stagger for control, but, trained as you are with indifference, you were able to reclaim your composure with such brazen swiftness. The empty bottle is beside you, and you silently curse yourself for your flawed self-control.

After a few more breathed curses, a realization strikes you that the person you love a little too much, who is always at the forefront of your mind, isn't anywhere to be seen.

Marisa.

You can vaguely recollect that she was sitting near you the whole time, cheerily talking with the others all the while servicing you with snacks. It's hard to miss that silly mage when her infectious grin is a charming point for everyone and now the absence of that childlike radiance makes you feel a bit lonely.

Though, swirling in your foggy mind, you manage to, again, recall someone with golden hair and pale skin staying at the lounge before everything went completely blur from the celebration.

_Maybe she went back there earlier?_

You say to yourself.

You don't waste time. You foolishly order your body, drunk beyond words could express, to take you back to the safety comforts of your home. As you begin to ascend, you catch your friends' mumble words of both concern and disbelief. You try your best to follow so you steel yourself with a versed pretend modesty. Pretend to be like your lover who puts herself out there. Soon, the sound that has detained your mind is swiftly lost in the mirth around you, and the intoxication you carry suddenly becomes an enormous weight and you just want to lay down and be in the arms of someone right now.

They release you and you breathe a sigh of relief.

It didn't take you long to reach the shrine even with slow, strumbled steps. As you approach, you realize how your home is truly an unnatural place to gape at in the dead of the night. An isolated shrine sitting at the border of both commonality and fantasy. The soundless atmosphere easily creates a romantic delusion that even you cannot deny. The tall, robust pillars and partially dim paper lamps that litter the hallway enhances the thought of two souls skittering in the twilight, whispering love odes in the middle of their passionate rendezvous. Even the silly sound of the creaking floorboards adds a little appeal to it all.

You dismiss yourself out of your reverie and regard that the guest room door is slightly open. You first notice the dimness of the room but your mind is quick to focus on the sound of a girl's soft breathing. Her frame is enclosed in the futon's blanket and her golden hair peeps out in contrast.

The tension leaves your body at last.

_Ah, there you are._

"What are you doing..." You inch closer to where she is. An unbecoming voice escapes you, half coarse and all too hummed to show further annoyance of her leaving you all alone with the others. "...sleeping all alone?"

Yet you can't help but do that slow purring voice, only a tempo away from revealing something too intimate, and one you know she likes too much.

There is no reply. You peer at her sleeping form in disbelief, back in view, waiting for her to say something until a few moments passed and it dawns to you that she isn't going to give you the attention that you crave until you're begging in front of her.

"Hey."

Silence.

You relax into the calling of the soft futon beside her to give your weary legs their much-deserved stretch. The smooth white sheet has nearly imprisoned you in its comfort, and you almost have no strength to fight the fatigue.

But you try your best to appease your eyes from giving in.

You look at her again.

It's hot, unbearably so, even by your standards. You feel the heat creeping its way to your already flushed body, stirring your insides with the alcohol coursing through your veins. The room's warmth lingers too much to your liking despite the relentless rush of breeze from outside, and you wonder if it will ever cease.

The heavy feeling of intemperance moves in you with a steady rhythm that you sense your mind slurring into nothing the longer you try to keep yourself awake. You try to consider other things instead: the party, your friends, the peaceful utopia that you all live in. Trivialities that never mattered. Never really mattered at this moment.

But they are not enough. Your mind is quick to linger to that recent discomfort between your thighs and your breath hastens in response.

You try your best to ignore it but it's too much.

You need a release.

"Hey..."

Hazily, you reach out to her. Her silky, golden locks tangle smoothly in between your fingers. You play with it for quite some time. She doesn't react and just let you be. Her name comes out as a whisper from your lips, and she makes a faint reaction to that. But then, silence. You try one more time to make her notice you until it came to a point that you finally consider the distance between each other too intolerable inside this noiseless room.

Outside, the turbulent clamor from your companions continues, but the sound of her heavy breathing is the last thing you hear before something louder unshackles in your mind.

So you do what you think she wants you to.

_Beg._

There is little to no resistance. You begin to writhe your body closer to her, slightly fussing, but completely enamored by those golden strands you lovingly hold dear, gleaming even in this darkness like a beacon for you to follow. You place no mind to your weight crushing down on your prey, towering her - and for good reason - and aim solely at those puckered lips that moistened at the sight of you shifting over.

She catches you, and you feel your breath taken in an instant.

The heat inside you grows like a zealous fire, wild, desperate to set more of her ablaze. You feel the kiss reaching your core, and you can't stop. She squeezes your shoulder, drawing you closer with a surprising force, drowning you in a drunken passion that renders your mind helpless, tongues dancing with each other in a sloppy, wet kiss. You answer her cries in your mouth with an incredulous voice of your own, one that came out like a mixture of a womanly shrill and a groan of a starved beast, and it startles you enough to consider letting go.

But when she moaned back - god - it was perfect.

You suddenly hear your conscience beating your muddled brain right in the middle of your gasps.

"Wait..." You catch yourself for a bit, stopping just an inch away from her, yet still close enough to feel both of your ragged breathing. Thankfully, she gives you that small reprieve. You feel her smirk in between that tiny space of your lips while the darkness obscures her face in the most perfect veil of mystery and allure.

"You...are Marisa, right?"

You listen to the hollowness in your question and wonder for a brief moment if it truly had any weight at all, regardless if you're holding your lover or someone else entirely.

And if it was the latter, would you even dare to stop now?

You come to a standstill and the sudden recognition hits you with an alarming force. You gaze at her pair of blue eyes, beautiful and otherworldly, gleaming even in such a dim lighted room, drunk with lust at your false realization. She sighs and brings your face towards her for another kiss, tongue probing you for entrance with a gentle push. You give in to the tango of her sweet nothings until you feel her fire burning with yours and your mind melts. She holds you even more and the gesture inflames your soft, wanting insides.

You shudder at the thought of this happening and how very immoral it makes you feel.

The heat grows and grows and you think less of anything else but to touch the fire and have it consume you with her.

_I'm sorry._

You hear yourself say.

_But, I want you._

And you know just how much her body wants you from that apparent wetness you feel as you slowly trail your fingers on those little creases between her legs.

"Reimu..."

You feel the thrill of your name sounding so hot in her small voice. This unbecoming temper of hers surprises you still, despite the demeanor you know she bears. Her fingers trail through the nape of your neck, gliding over the outline of your spine, fingernails barely scraping at your skin and your breath hitches.

_More._

She whispers your name with a possessive tone again and again.

You waste no time to pull the white blanket so you can look at her flushed skin. Her dress is damp from the heat with half of its buttons undone, immodestly showing the glistening paleness of her flesh for you to feast on. She is squirming beneath you now, breathing wordlessly. The sound of your pulse in unison is so obtrusive that it nearly drives you mad. In between the stifled gasps and moans that she allows you to hear, she looks at you with those half-lidded eyes of hers, and mouths for you to taste her, to fuck her more.

The feeling is overwhelming. You ghost over her swollen breasts with your lips, and after a few seconds of impatience, she begins to shift over and you finally get a taste of her. You make use of your tongue to worship her body, and your fingers, testing the arousal of her entrance, push inside her with an experienced motion. She stifles her moans with both of her hands, her back arching at the fullness of you, your fingers strongly clenched inside of her and moving with such urgency to make her yours.

She is the kind of obsession you never knew you wanted.

You hear, once again, that distinctive creaking of your shrine's shallow floorboards and the accompanying footsteps that follow. It rings to you louder than the thundering thrump of your heartbeat. Louder and louder, like a deep, maddening sound of the depraved. You know what it is yet the meaning is lost in your engrossed mind. The rhythm continues, and time seems to lose any purpose, but, like the stirring climax of a tale, the throbbing ceases, and for once, her flame makes you fully alive.

You catch her as she drapes swiftly on your back, moaning that sweet orgasm in your mouth.

The door slides fully with a sharp sound.

"Reimu, are you in here?"

Marisa's voice brings you back. The cool, night breeze passes through the open door and your lover's long golden hair flows like a beautiful cadence in the background.

You see yourself sitting upright on the futon still impeccably dressed despite the heat. Marisa addresses your sloppy appearance for a moment and considers you as someone roused from a grand dream.

She holds another one of those sake bottles and raises it with pride. She beams you that silly grin you love too much with such an unrestrained innocence.

She calls for you.

"Wanna go to the backyard and drink together?"

But you don't hear her.

Instead, you feel another woman's hand on yours, clutching the side of your hakama underneath the blanket. Her fingers linger slowly toward your hand.

"I'm sorry, Marisa."

You lock your fingers with hers.

"But I'm...going to stay here and sober up first."


End file.
